Barcelona in a state of emergency: BRIGITTE.de reader Stefanie Pfeil and her 15-year-old son were not allowed outside the door for three months. Here she tells how they survived the lockdown together.
Suddenly it was said: We are only allowed to leave the house to go shopping. The streets are full of police, every step is controlled. People go out and buy toilet paper, flour and sugar as if we were at war. I only hear: REST OF HOUSEHOLD!
A 57 square meter mom and son prison
Which means something like: I am locked up with my teenage son for an indefinite period of time. No school, no friends, no escape, not for him, not for me! I panic and it's not fear of the virus.
Has anyone out there thought of single mothers with teenagers !?
I breathe into a paper bag and head off to do the bulk shopping. But what is there in my car? Alcohol and chocolate! Like I was shopping for a party. There are provisions for my little mom-son prison, locked in a 57 square meter city apartment without a balcony. “We can do it”, I try to meditate and wish that a mother of the nation will come and redeem me!
Leo becomes a caveman in his pajamas
My son Leo, on the other hand, remains calm. Takes things as they come and begins the life of a caveman. Without the hunt and the fire, instead with a mobile phone, a computer and a tablet. The bed is his island, which he only leaves to eat and go to the toilet, he hardly takes off his pajamas. Because of the lack of sunlight, I give him vitamin D.
© Stefanie Pfeil
I am very happy that digital lessons will soon be available, which means that my son is at least busy in the mornings. His school class meets at video conferences and I see Leo installing funny wallpapers virtually. Shortly afterwards I get an email from his teacher: "Leo does a lot of nonsense during the digital lesson."
That was expectable. If regular middle school classes are boring for a teenager, imagine the same thing on a screen with lots of little windows full of classmates – a kind of virtual advent calendar. In addition, teachers were overwhelmed by their children walking into the picture while 28 young people in pajamas on their cave beds secretly watch videos on their cell phones next to the computer.
As always, I work from home. The door of the children's room is now mostly closed, heaven knows what is going on behind it in the many weeks of lockdown. Is a boy his age just happy to be locked in for weeks or months and to be able to spend a lot more time on his electronic devices? But I am pleasantly surprised that Leo is willing to take on more housework and sometimes cook.
Who is this young man in my apartment?
A friend calls and asks if we would be willing to be interviewed for a Spanish newspaper – it's about how we experience homeschooling. Leo agrees, and I think it's okay too, so we get a call shortly thereafter. Leo speaks first: I hear him speak in full sentences, in a friendly and eloquent manner. Who is this young man
Then the content: “Now I can finally learn things that I normally don't get to.” Then I hear him say that he has started to learn French.
What? My rapping son in pajamas, who mostly sleeps, watches series or chats with friends, is learning French grammar? Did I misjudge him completely? I am impressed! That means I'll leave the room quickly so the reporter won't hear my laughter. There are only two options:
- Behind the facade of the gangster rapist is an intellectual who is eager to learn.
- He came up with it spontaneously and made it so convincing that he even believed it himself.
Both variants are interesting. The first because it is full of hope that he only hides his urge to learn behind the facade of the gangster rapper, so as not to be seen as a nerd by his friends. The second, because I actually have great recognition for his acting as an actor, after all, his dream job is an actor.
I can't wait to find out the secret. He admits it straight away: "The learning sounded kind of good, I made that up and then she asks what I'm learning, only French came to mind."
Lockdown life can be lonely
In order not to fall into a depression, I try to incorporate beautiful rituals into our everyday lockdown. Every day one of us can wish what we do together. I wish to sing together again, he wishes to make crepes … Every day is a dream day, what a good idea! After a few days, however, we no longer really feel like having so many wishes, and especially Leo no longer feels like fulfilling my wishes and goes back to his cave.
Living in an apartment with a cave creature can get very, very lonely in the long run, especially when meeting friends is forbidden. So after a month of lockdown, I'm introducing a new system: I pay him one euro for a hug. My son hugs me once a day, and I like to pay for it: I get my hug and he doesn't have to feel bad hugging his mother as a 15-year-old because it's a job, so to speak. The money is collected, from which we go to the restaurant after the lockdown.
During the weeks of cave life together, I sometimes thought that they might be the most intense time we'd have together before Leo eventually moved out. And such a cave youth is actually quite pleasant to be with each other:
The daily arguments disappear because there is hardly anything that is worth discussing, since everything that is fun is forbidden anyway.
Even if it's difficult, I would like to praise it at this point: My teenage son is absolutely suitable for lockdown! I think more than I do. Maybe he didn't even notice that we were locked up for more than three months? I will ask when the opportunity arises.
The author: Stefanie Pfeil is a children's book illustrator and author in Barcelona. As a single mother with a young son, she experiences a lot, which she regards and describes with humor, compassion and despair. This text is a publication of anecdotes, which you can follow on her blog “pfeilsender.de”.